


We'll Move to the Ocean

by Malapropian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, First Meeting, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, Stiles wears a skirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malapropian/pseuds/Malapropian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the worst day ever. Then Stiles meets Theo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Move to the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> The first meeting of tiny Steo is so cute, but it's going to bad, bad places before too long.
> 
> Taylor and I spent so much time discussing the backstory of Taste that I felt inspired to write the unofficial prequel (with all the underage he can't write). Well, it's not unofficial any more. There is too much shared headcanon action. This can only end in tears.
> 
> I would apologize for all the future filth, but I guess I'm not that sorry.

Stiles is grumpy. After waking up early, his mommy tells him that he can’t wear his favorite outfit because it’s in the laundry. When Stiles helpfully offers to wear it unwashed, she says no. _It’s too dirty to wear today, sweetie. What about the duckies today?_ Stiles does not care about “too dirty”. He cares that he can’t wear the Batman skirt she made just for him. This is the worst day ever.

So he sits under the table like a little rebel, pouting in his Batman tee and second-favorite skirt while his mommy finishes putting out the pretty plates and little sandwiches and cakes and snacks he’s not allowed to touch. Good thing the arrival of her first guests means that she’s too busy to notice he’s already filched some of everything with the help of his daddy.

He sulks harder at how mean she’s being and stuffs another stolen cake into his mouth. Stiles ignores the approach of light-up robot shoes. He’s not impressed at all. He is _upset_. He can’t wear his favorite outfit for company, and Mommy said there wouldn’t be anyone to play with. The Batcave is closed. No room for random people with cool shoes who shouldn’t even be here.

When the table cloth twitches up, Stiles slaps at it. “Go away,” he demands though another sugary mouthful. 

His cheeks might bulge, but he still glares at the boy who pops up in _his_ spot. This is Stiles’ Batcave. He made it himself with pillows and blankets from his room. There is only room for one cake-hoarding dragon beast here, so this new boy can find another place. Or sit with his parents at the boring, grown-up party.

The intruder blinks at the sudden gloom and breaks into a gap-toothed grin. It’s like he can’t tell how much Stiles doesn’t want him to be here, so Stiles frowns harder. 

The boy blurts out, “The ducks on your skirt have hats. I like them.” He takes no mind of how Stiles fumes and chooses to flop down next to him. “I went to the park yesterday and fed the ducks. But not bread. Too much bread can make them sick.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open—he’s aghast at this news. He’s willing to overlook the intrusion to get to the bottom of this. “I didn’t know that,” Stiles whispers. “I’m a duck murderer! Will I hafta go to jail?” If his voice quivers and he scoots closer to the boy, no one can blame him. It’s a shocking thing to learn that you may have murdered a million-billion ducks—or however many he’s actually fed. (Sometimes counting is hard.)

“Nooo! I bet they’re fine. Did you hold them down and make them eat all the bread?” His eyes gleam oddly in the soft light under the table. “It was just a little bit?” The boy pats Stiles’ face, unmindful of the sticky frosting and cake crumbs.

“Um, no? I dunno. I tore it up and dropped it. What’s a little bit?”

“I’m not sure.” He frowns. “Don’t worry though. I’ll protect you. Like Daddy protects Mommy. I’ll be your knight. I have a _real_ bike with two wheels!” He puffs out his chest and pulls Stiles under his thin arm. “We could run away to the beach. Nobody would find us!”

Stiles’ eyes widen at the offer. And the hug. Not many people hug Stiles other than his parents. It makes him feel happy and squirmy inside, but he likes it. Cautiously, a little afraid that his new friend will change his mind, Stiles puts his arms around the boy and burrows closer. He’s close enough to rest his face against the boy’s chest, so he does. The shirt under his cheek is soft and fuzzy. It smells like detergent and cake and encourages Stiles to tighten his arms around him.

“But, are you sure? My dad’s really super strong. And smart. He’s a deputy!”

The other boy pets Stiles again and hugs him. “I’ll take care of you. My mommy said big people help smaller people, and I’m bigger than you so I have to. It’s the rules.”

Stiles tilts his head and frowns. That sounds like what his parents say, but not quite right. Maybe? Unable to argue with the boy’s logic, Stiles offers his grudging assent. “I guess.” 

When the boy pets him again, Stiles’ cheeks puff out in annoyance. He’s tired of being the smallest one in his class. No one ever believes him when he says that he’s five and three whole months. Still, this is the first boy who’s liked his skirts, so they have to be friends now. Nodding to himself, Stiles scoots over to grab his plate of forbidden snacks. He hands over a half-eaten cake, the pretty pink frosting mostly licked off. 

“It’s chocolate.” Stiles hopes that makes up for its ragged state, but he has nothing to worry about. Chocolate cake is king, despite its appearance. The boy breaks into a familiar gap-toothed grin and takes the cake. 

For a second, he just holds the cake. Then he eats it in three neat mouthfuls. Only after chewing and swallowing does he speak, “My mommy calls me Teddy, but my real name is Theo. What’s your name?”

“I’m Stiles. No one can say my name except Mommy and Daddy and my grandparents.”

Theo furrows his brow. “But if I’m protecting you, I need to know your name too.” 

Oh! Stiles hadn’t thought of that. But… “No one gets it right,” he sighs. “Just my family.”

Theo pats Stiles’ face again and pulls him over so they can curl up in the dragon nest. “If I learn to say it, that makes me family, too.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. My mommy said you have to share names to be family.”

“Cool,” he breathes. Theo likes his skirts and wants to learn his name. Theo wants to save him from being a duck murderer. Theo is gonna be the best friend _ever_. Stiles just knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> Future parts will be posted as individual fics in the series.
> 
> Let me know if I missed tagging anything important.
> 
> Many thanks to [Bones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesofbirdwings) and [Shelly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shellysbees) for the editing.


End file.
